The sight of each other bound them into a fascination for each other, as if Kāma himself had brought them together. The two were overcome by passion, and they forgot everything else, and got carried away in the storm of their attraction.
Kamalākara’s friend, who was walking alongside him, saw that Kamalākara had fallen in hopeless love, and somehow managed to take him away from the scene, and to his own house.
सापि तं नामतो ऽन्विष्य विवशानङ्गमञ्जरी ।
तया स्वया समं सख्या प्राविशद् वासकं शनैः ॥ १२,२८.२४ ॥
तत्र संचिन्तयन्ती च कान्तं कामज्वरातुरा ।
नापश्यन् नाशृणोत् किंचिल् लुठन्ती शयनीयके ॥ १२,२८.२५ ॥
गतेष्व् अहःसु द्वित्रेषु सत्रपा सभया च सा ।
असहा विरहोन्मादं विसोढुं कृशपाण्डुरा ॥ १२,२८.२६ ॥
दुष्प्रापप्रियसंयोगनिरास्था नक्तम् एकदा ।
गवाक्षप्रेरितकरेणाकृष्टेव हिमांशुना ॥ १२,२८.२७ ॥
सुप्ते परिजने स्वैरं निर्गत्य मरणोन्मुखी ।
जगाम स्वगृहोद्यानवापीं तरुलतावृताम् ॥ १२,२८.२८ ॥
तत्र पित्रा कृतोदारप्रतिष्ठां कुलदेवताम् ।
उपेत्य चण्डिकां देवीं नत्वा स्तुत्वा व्यजिज्ञपत् ॥ १२,२८.२९ ॥
As for Anaṅgamañjarī, she enquired about him, and having no will of her own, slowly entered her house with her friend.
She was now deep in love, and thinking of that handsome youth, she rolled around on the bed, not able to see or hear anything else.
Two or three days passed, and ashamed at her thoughts, yet unable to bear the misery of separation, a thin and pale and desperate for a union that would never happen, Anaṅgamañjarī decided to end her life.
And so one night, when everyone was asleep, she went out of the house slowly, as if drawn by the finger-like rays of the moon, and walked through her garden to the small pond at the foot of a tree.
A small temple of her kula-devi Caṇḍī had been made there, and Anaṅgamañjarī prostrated before her, sang praises of her, and said…
अस्मिञ् जन्मनि चेद् भर्ता न मया कमलाकरः ।
प्राप्तस् तद् देवि भूयान् मे सो ऽन्यस्मिन्न् अपि जन्मनि ॥ १२,२८.३० ॥
इत्य् उक्त्वा पुरतस् तस्या देव्याः साशोकपादपे ।
पाशं विरचयामास स्वोत्तरीयेण रागिणी ॥ १२,२८.३१ ॥
तावद् आप्ता सखी तस्याः सा प्रबुध्यात्र वासके ।
ताम् अदृष्ट्वा तद् उद्यानं दैवाद् आगाद् विचिन्वती ॥ १२,२८.३२ ॥
तत्र दृष्ट्वा च तां पाशम् अर्पयन्तीं तथा गले ।
मा मेत्य् उक्त्वा प्रधाव्यैव पाशं तस्यास् तम् अच्छिनत् ॥ १२,२८.३३ ॥
सापि तां वीक्ष्य संप्राप्तां कृत्तपाशां निजां सखीम् ।
अनङ्गमञ्जरी भूमौ पपाताधिकदुःखिता ॥ १२,२८.३४ ॥
आश्वासिता स्वसख्या च तया पृष्टा च सा क्षणात् ।
दुःखहेतुं समाख्याय पुन एनाम् अभाषत ॥ १२,२८.३५ ॥
सखि मालतिके तन् मे दुर्लभे प्रियसंगमे ।
गुर्वादिपरतन्त्राया न सुखं मरणात् परम् ॥ १२,२८.३६ ॥
इति ब्रुवाणैवानङ्गशराग्निज्वलिता भृशम् ।
सानङ्गमञ्जरी मोहं ययौ नैराश्यनिःसहा ॥ १२,२८.३७ ॥
” I have not got Kamalākara as my husband in this birth, O Devi, but please let him be my husband in my next janmā!”
Saying this, she rose up, made a noose from the cloth that she carried, and tied it to a branch of an aśoka tree nearby.
In the meanwhile, her friend, who had been sleeping in the same room as Anaṅgamañjarī, woke up, and seeing that she was missing, went out into the garden to look for her.
And when she saw what was happening, she cried out loudly asking Anaṅgamañjarī to stop, and running up, cut the noose that had been made, and held on tightly to her friend.
Anaṅgamañjarī, seeing that her friend had come to rescue her, fell to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
Her friend comforted her, and asked her the cause of her grief. Anaṅgamañjarī went on to narrate the whole incident, and concluded by saying…
“So you see Mālatikā, I am bound by my family and society, and so have no chance of being one with the one I love. So, death is the only option for me…”
Saying this, she was once again overcome with grief, and fainted on the spot.
कष्टं स्मराज्ञा दुर्लङ्घ्या यया नीता दशाम् इमाम् ।
अन्याविनीतवनिताहासिनीयं सखी मम ॥ १२,२८.३८ ॥
इत्यादिविलपन्ती च तां सा मालतिका सखी ।
शनैर् आश्वासयामास शीताम्बुपवनादिभिः ॥ १२,२८.३९ ॥
तापोपशान्तये चास्याश् चकार नलिनीदलैः ।
शय्यां ददौ च हृदये हारं तुहिनशीतलम् ॥ १२,२८.४० ॥
ततः साश्रुर् उवाचैतां सखीं सानङ्गमञ्जरी ।
सखि हारादिभिर् नायं दाहो ऽन्तो मम शाम्यति ॥ १२,२८.४१ ॥
येन प्रशाम्यति पुनः स्वबुद्ध्यैव विधत्स्व तत् ।
मां संयोजय कान्तेन जीवितं मे यदीच्छसि ॥ १२,२८.४२ ॥
Mālatikā held her and lamented…
“It is so difficult to resist kāmā! It has made this girl suffer so much, she of all who used to laugh at others who could not control themselves!”
Mālatikā then sprinkled cold water on her friend’s face, and lay her on a bed of lotus leaves, placed a necklace of cold gemstones on her and fanned her until she came back to her senses.
As Anaṅgamañjarī opened her eyes, she said tearfully…
“My friend! These measures are but temporary, they do not sooth my passions. Can you please think of something that will make me feel better from the inside. Unite me with that man, if you really wish to see me alive!”
to be continued…